Under Ground

Chapter Three

Chapter ThreeRuth sat up in the bed and stretched her arms over her head. She leaned over and opened the blackout curtain. Another dreary day greeted her. The problem with being on an island in the middle of an ocean was all the mist and fog that constantly rolled in.

She looked at Varis in the other bed and smiled. Balled up under the covers, Varis’s face was hidden under her thick mane of hair. She snored softly.

Muted voices and footsteps could be heard from elsewhere in the house. Varis had called one of her friends from the embassy, and the woman immediately offered to put them up. She and her husband, who was also on the diplomatic staff, had three children they sent back to the States when the war began.

Varis pawed the hair away from her face and sighed heavily. She met Ruth's eyes with a groggy smile.

Ruth waggled her fingers. “Merry Christmas, sleepyhead.”

“Merry Christmas.” Varis untangled herself and pulled the blankets up to her chin. “Is everyone else awake?”

“I heard noise from downstairs. We should join them, but I was enjoying the quiet.” She c****d her head. “What will your family be doing today?”

Varis grinned. “It will be utter mayhem. My brothers try to act nonchalant, but they're always awake before dawn, and they make just enough noise to disturb the rest of us. Once they've torn through the packages, Mother will cook a huge breakfast of ham, eggs, pancakes, and biscuits. Makes my mouth water thinking about it.”

“Sounds delicious.”

“What about your folks?”

“My parents probably spent the night at Chip's place, so they could be there when the twins wake up. They'll spoil them rotten with too many gifts, then Mother will help Fran in the kitchen. It's usually a big plate of cinnamon rolls and fresh bread, but I don't know about this year. I've lost track of what they're rationing at home. Can they still get flour?”

“I'm not sure.”

Lost in memories of past Christmases, they sat, wordless. Moments later, a knock on the door broke the silence.

“Merry Christmas, girls. I know you're awake. We heard your voices.”

“Merry Christmas, Louise. We'll be right down.”

They quickly took turns in the bathroom and soon descended into the dining room. An earthy scent emanated from the pine boughs Louise had draped across the mantel and on top of the sideboard. Scarlet ribbons were woven through the branches, and a Hummel nativity set was nestled among the greenery. An ivory-colored tablecloth covered the table, on top of which a trio of burgundy pillar candles clustered amid some greens.

Ruth pointed to the empty manger. “Where is baby Jesus? Did he get broken?”

Louise's husband, Rick, held up the minute figure. “We always wait until Christmas morning to add Him to the crèche. Would you like the honor?”

Ruth hesitated. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “We would love for you to do it.”

She took the porcelain statue from him and tenderly placed it into the tiny manger. Her heart swelled at the vision of the sleeping infant. She stroked the smooth surface of its face. “This is an exquisite set. Where did you get it?”

Louise picked up one of the shepherds. “In Germany. Rick's first post was at the American embassy in Berlin. The purchase was a real splurge, since we were scraping to get by on his starting wages. But it was before the boys were born, so we went without a few things to put money aside each week. We bought a piece at a time. It took quite a while, but we’ve never regretted it.” She returned the piece into place and smiled at the group. “Gifts or breakfast?”

Rick rubbed his stomach. “Breakfast. I'm starving.”

Louise laughed. “You're always hungry. But I agree. Let's eat first. How about if you slice the bread and make the toast?” She turned to Ruth and Varis. “Can you two set the table while I make quick work of the eggs?”

Several minutes later, the group sat in front of a steaming platter of fluffy scrambled eggs and lightly browned bread. They joined hands, and Rick asked the blessing.

“Thank You, Father, for Your generosity and grace. Thank You for keeping us safe during this terrible time of war.” His voice broke. “We miss our loved ones but know You are watching over them. Help us in our daily walk to live only for You. Thank You for the food You have provided. We don't take it for granted. We love You. In the name of Your precious Son, Jesus, amen.”

Rick reached for Varis's plate. “The egg dish is heavy. Why don't I serve everyone?”

“That's very kind. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He distributed the food, and they began to eat. Music from the radio drifted in from the living room and mixed with the sound of silverware on the china plates.

After several minutes, Rick laid down his fork and leaned back with a sigh. “Delicious as usual, Louise. I'm going to live.”

She gave him a playful pat on the arm. “Like there was any risk of you dying of starvation. You never miss a meal.”

“Not if I can help it.” He turned to Ruth and Varis. “How about you, ladies? Did you get enough?”

Varis sighed. “Plenty.”

Ruth downed the last of her water then dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “It was marvelous. Thank you.”

Rick smiled. “Excellent. Let's adjourn to the living room, shall we?”

Varis picked up her plate and reached for Ruth's. “What about the dishes?”

He shooed them away and stacked the plates. “I've got this covered. You go relax, and I'll join you in a jiffy.”

They wandered into the cozy parlor and sank into the overstuffed chairs.

Ruth looked over her shoulder at Rick then back at Louise. “You're so lucky, Louise. Not too many men are willing to help in the kitchen.”

Louise laughed. “Luck has nothing to do with it, my friends. It took a lot of hard work. And the Lord.”

“What do you mean?”

“The first ten years of our marriage were different. Rick grew up with his mother doing all the household chores. His father would come home and read the paper or work in his office. He was very remote with his family. So that's how Rick behaved. I tried to get him to pitch in, and he'd sometimes help if asked, but it was a constant battle.”

Ruth c****d her head. “What changed?”

“I was out walking one night, and I passed a church. The doors were open, and the music was captivating. It drew me inside. The building was jammed with people, but the folks in the last pew shifted to make room for me, so I stayed. The singing went on for a long time.” She sighed. “It was wonderful. Then it was time for the sermon. The preacher stood and began to speak. I was mesmerized. Everyone else must have been, too, because you could hear a pin drop. He spoke with such passion about Jesus—not like those preachers who scowl and shout and pound the pulpit—but with excitement. His face glowed, and his eyes shone. After the service I asked how I could become a Christian. I came home and told Rick about it. He was skeptical. Said he was a good man and didn't need church, but if I wanted to go he wouldn't stop me. I was so disappointed. I wanted him to join me.”

Rick entered the room and stood behind Louise with his hand on her shoulder. “I was stubborn back then. But I watched Louise and could see a difference in her. It intrigued me. She was gracious and loving when we married, but after she became a Christian, there was more depth to her. She was so content. Anyway, Christmas came, and she asked me to accompany her to church. She said I didn't have to give her any other gifts that year. Sounded easy enough, so I went.”

His Adam’s apple bobbled as he swallowed. “The man laid it out so simply. He made me realize there was a huge hole in my life. I could hardly wait to become a Christian. It changed my whole life. I couldn't get enough of reading the Bible. Then I discovered the fifth chapter of Ephesians that talked about how husbands were to love their wives, enough to give up their lives for them. The pastor helped me see it also meant figuratively and on a daily basis. Putting her first. I've been helping around the house ever since. The best part is that it gives us more time together.”

Ruth grinned. “Marriage might not be so bad if I could find a man like you, Rick.”

“Louise will tell you it’s not always roses, Ruth, but we work hard at getting it right.” He chuckled. “Marriage is not for the faint of heart.”

The group laughed, and Varis said, “Thanks for telling us about coming to faith. It's quite a story.”

He rubbed his hands. “You're welcome. But enough seriousness. It's time for the goods. I'll be St. Nicholas.” He moved to the brightly decorated stack of boxes. Everyone had done something different to compensate for the lack of wrapping paper. Louise used fabric, and Rick painted pictures directly onto the boxes. Ruth and Varis covered theirs with pages torn from old magazines.

Rick announced each name and distributed the presents with a flourish. They took turns opening the presents, and everyone “oohed” and “aahed.”

Louise sighed. “I hope the children received our gifts. I sent them home in August.”

Varis rose and hugged her. “You must miss them very much.”

“We do, but it's much safer for them to be in the States. It was a terribly difficult decision, but we felt that's what the Lord wanted us to do.”

Rick squeezed her hand. “We'll try to get a line through later today.”

She gave him a shaky smile. “I didn't mean to put a damper on Christmas.”

“Maybe this will pick you up. I've saved the best for last.” He reached behind his chair and drew out a small brown paper bag. He wiggled his eyebrows up and down and made a show of digging into the bottom of the sack as if it were quite deep.

Louise wiped the tears from her face. “This had better be good after all the showmanship.”

“I think you'll be pleased.” He pulled out an orange with a flourish.

Varis clapped her hands. “Rick, it's beautiful!”

“I can't remember the last time I've seen an orange,” Ruth said.

“There's more where that came from.” He tossed the fruit to his wife and pulled out two more that he passed to Ruth and Varis before withdrawing the last one for himself.

“Where did you get them?”

Rick winked. “I have my sources.”

“They must have been quite dear.”

“Actually, they didn't cost a thing. They were shipped over by the Red Cross for embassy families.”

Ruth held the fragrant, dimpled rind to her nose and took a deep breath. “I can't decide whether to eat it immediately, or save it and savor the anticipation.”

Louise nodded. “I know what you mean. How about if we do a bit of both? If we share two now, we can save the others for later or another day.”

Rick smacked his lips together. “Excellent idea. And while we eat, Ruth can tell us what's going on with that skeleton of hers.”

“There's not much to tell.”

He leaned toward her. “Maybe not now, but you're not one to let something like this alone. Am I right?”

Ruth face heated. “Am I that easy to read?”

“No, but you're a top-notch reporter, and this could be intriguing. What are your plans to dig out the story?” He gave a wry grin. “No pun intended.”

They all groaned, and Ruth opened her purse to retrieve the yellowed photograph. She passed it to Rick. “My first job will be to find out the identity of these men. One of them has to be the dead man.”

“You think so?” He handed the picture to Louise.

“It's a strong possibility. If not, there's got to be some connection. Why were there two copies of the same picture? Why were they tucked into his boot? Was he hiding them?” Ruth took the worn picture from Louise and flipped it over. “There are names on the back. Not very readable, but maybe with a magnifying glass or a microscope I could pick out the letters on the back and get a better view of what's on the front.” She shrugged. “That's my plan, anyway.”

Varis pointed to the photo. “It's a murder inquiry, not a story. It's bad enough you took this from the crime scene. You need to leave the investigation to the professionals.”

“Who said anything about getting involved in the investigation? I just want to know who the guy is.”

“Uh-huh.”

Rick sat back and crossed his legs. “Varis is right. You probably shouldn't have taken the photo. Will you give it back?”

“Of course. But I want to examine it first. DI Gelson already has a copy.” She warmed at the thought of seeing the handsome detective to return the photo then waved away the thought. “I wonder where I can get a microscope.”

Rick stood and walked to the sideboard. He pulled the top drawer out and dug through the contents that rattled and banged as he pushed them back and forth. “Ah-ha! Here it is.” He held up a battered magnifying glass. “Will this be of any use?”